Stranger at my door
by JJHennie1
Summary: Before work, a single woman is having a quiet breakfast at home when she is interrupted by a handsome stranger, with a little girl on his arms, searching for a different unit in the same building. An AU obviously. It was a one shot but I have been asked to continue it; so it grew into this 8 chapter story - hope you like it :)
1. Chapter 1 - Ana

A/N: This story came to be when yesterday a real-life-Paul-Walker-look-alike holding a beautiful little girl on his hip knocked at Wattle's front door. As it turns out, the handsome stranger was at the wrong address and Wattle, ever helpful, explained where they needed to go. Amused, Wattle shared the story with the Facebook group as she theorized of single parents meeting for play dates. We tried to convince Mrs. Wattle to write a FF story but it was not meant to be and she suggested I write it instead. So, tonight, I let my imagination run wild and 'Stranger at my door' was born; since a nanny would be the one taking children to play dates I made some adjustments to the prompt. Ana and Christian never meet; Ana graduated, got a job at SIP, had a thing with Jose for a few years, now she is on her own, and bit more mature. I hope you enjoy it.

**Summary:** Before work, a single woman is having a quiet breakfast at home when she is interrupted by a handsome stranger, with a little girl on his arms, searching for a different unit in the same building. It is a one shot and an AU obviously.

**_Stranger at my door_**

I wake up to the fresh smell of mother earth after a long rainy night. I have a neck crank, so I stretch my muscles similar to how a cat would; I think I almost meow in pleasure. It is a Monday, I hate Mondays because the weekends are way too short and Friday is too far away.

I make my way to the en-suite and try to brush my hair into submission. Finally, giving up the battle with my hair, I put it up with a brown scrunchie that matches by hair color. I look in the mirror and squint as I brush my teeth; sometimes I think my eyes are way too big for my face. After I clean up, I pull my yoga mat, walk around my room to open the sliding doors, and let the cooling breeze in. From the third floor, the view is serene as always; today is an overcast hot autumn day very common this time of the year here in Seattle. The cloudless sky looks almost white.

I stretch and rub my muscles – _if Jose was here he would massage my back. Jose, I gave him two years of my life; we should have known we would not work out. We are too much alike, our relationship just fizzled out, lost any spark if it there was ever any. We were too worried to lose our friendship that we kept on going for way too long. Now, we barely talk to each other, not even really friends anymore. _ I quickly shake those thoughts out of my mind. I concentrate on my yoga and enjoying the view before me.

Genesee Park is my back yard, some of the aspen and maple trees already started to turn, the yellows and vibrant reds contrast with the evergreens; there are birds singing at a distance and briefly I wonder what a bird would say if he could talk –_ look at the mountains and the turning of the leaves, snow is coming, we should go south and stay warm; the little bird me would say. Maybe I need a vacation, fly south like the birds and take in sun and surf_.

I stretch once more, I do not need a vacation, all I need is to be touched and desired, maybe a one night stand would be good, people do that all the time, don't they? I have never had a one night stand before and wonder how one goes about finding one _– hello there, want to hook up, no strings attached, I'll even do all the work_. I giggle to myself; I must be losing my mind!

I take a big invigorating breath - _I so like the crisp fresh air the park provides._ I continue with my yoga routine thinking how I got lucky when I found this place so fast after Jose and I split up; I got a good price for it too it being an end unit at the hottest live-and-work lofts in Columbia City. If I wanted to, I could convert the first floor into retail space, an office or a business as most of my neighbors have done; I could live in the upper floors. For now, I'll leave it as a home office and maybe it'll be a library sometime.

My loft is real convenient as it is just a block away from my job as an editor at SIP. After having to commute for years from my old place – _ours, Jose's and mine, old place_ – I needed something convenient and this place with the red exposed brick, large windows and three floors of living space fits my needs just right; I could get a roommate, but I really do not need one nor do I want one. I sit on my meditation pose, breath in and out for a few minutes trying to blank out my thoughts.

When I am finally done it is 7:45 - it is time for breakfast. After I make my bed and pile all my pillows the way I like it – _take that Jose, he never understood the use of decorative pillows._ I head down to the kitchen area. Every time I enter my kitchen I smile, the light hard wood floors warm up the space and contrast nicely with the stainless steel appliances. My favorite, though, are the pink lower cabinets which complement the off white upper cabinets.

I run my hand across the cool tiles backsplash that form concentric circles of red, blue and yellows over an off white background, giving the impressions of colorful suns. I love my kitchen, it is bigger than any kitchen I ever had and it was worth the splurge since I love cooking. I even installed a place for all my cookbooks at the end of the cabinets; I painted them a light blue to match the blue from the tile for an added touch of color and extra whimsical effect.

I make myself some fresh pancakes with buttermilk, maple syrup and fresh blueberries from the farmer's market. Each and every bite is delicious and bursts of juicy blueberries; the sweet and sour of the berries contrasting nicely with the sticky sweetness of the syrupy pancake – _hummm mmmmm_. I sit at my kitchen table enjoying the closest I have come to an orgasm for close to seven months.

_Probably I should go out to a club or something. I should go and find myself a nice looking man. Or maybe I should just buy some batteries and finally put my birthday present to good use; Kate did say BOBs always come in handy._

My musings get interrupted by the loud ringing of my door bell; irritated, I look at the time. It is 3 minutes before 8 – _who in the hell could be at this hour! _

I have not finished saying 'Coming' when a second ring blasts through.

'I said I am coming!' I yell while I cross my foyer as yet another ring resonates through my space. The person on the other side is not very patient as yet a final ring comes through before I yank the door open; my irritation written all over my face.

There I stand, frozen in time and space in front of the most handsome, no beautiful, no, no, the most gorgeous-handsomest-beautiful-sexy-rip-off-my-pant ies-and-take-me-now man on this planet, no make that this galaxy or maybe just the universe.

Adonis has reddish blond hair, cut short on the sides and a bit longer on the top. It looks messy as if he just ran his hands over his hair in an attempt to make himself presentable after a good rump on the sheets. His eyes are deep and expressive, a light blue that makes them look gray. His eyebrows are perfect and make his eyes the focus of his face. His nose and jaw are chiseled to perfection; he has a light dusting of facial air, as if he has not shaved for a day or two. In fact, all of him looks perfect. He is wearing a black suit and a white linen shirt with the first two buttons open. I venture to guess his chest is a mass of perfect muscles, like a living replicate of Michel Angelo's David.

For sure he was put on this earth by the gods to tease us mere mortals as if to say 'look but do not touch!' The gods are teasing us, teasing _me_ in this instant in particular. Similar to museums, that display works of arts which we cannot touch; or an upscale bakery that does not offer samples. Oh, I do not want to just touch or a simple taste. I want to jump his bones, rip his clothes off while I nibble and lick him all over and over. I want to take him, here and now. If I were a peacock my feathers would be up and spread wide, circling him in a display of wantonness.

_I reach over, pull him in and close the door with my foot. As I push him against the door, I pull his black jacket and toss it to the floor. I rip his white linen shirt off, making all the buttons fly around the room. He smells good enough to eat. His hands are all over me, on my butt, my breasts, and my back. I take his belt out in one sweep and push his pants down with my legs. At this point, his impressive tent makes it obvious that he wants me as much as I want him. He takes the lead and pushes me against the wall as my legs wrap around his waist. He frees his amazing length and drives himself into me as my yoga pants and t-shirt get ripped into pieces. He feels amazing, his mouth is sucking and biting my nipples, his hands are roaming my body and I am getting closer and closer. I pull his beautiful silky reddish hair so I get access to his luscious lips, I want to pull those lips into mine and have a taste. He grunts a low rough sound and…_ My door bell rings!

"Princes, that is enough." The Adonis says in a sexy voice that makes my core liquefy and gush out of me soaking my underwear _– I hope he is not a mind reader_. I let out my breath as I turn my head to the side to finally notice the little girl he has perched on his hip. She is beautiful, big eyes and full pouty lips that are open forming an 'O.' She looks like an older version of the Gerber baby. She has his eyes and her hair is a little lighter than his, but is it obvious she is his child. My shoulders sag a little, where there is a child, typically there is a mother – _way to burst my bubble!_

He smirks and continues "…Grey, and this is Christy. Sorry about that. She likes doorbells apparently." He finishes still sporting a sexy as hell smirk.

"T-Th-That explains it" I say smiling and giggling. Ladies and gentlemen, I have lost my ability to speak; my lord, how embarrassing and I actually giggled! Please mother-earth open up and swallow me whole as I stand here in front of Adonis, wearing barely-there-clothes, nipples hard as pebbles and I am as wet and as juicy as those blueberries I just finished eating.

"I was under the impression you were expecting us this morning, Dr. White. Clearly that is not the case." Adonis says, as I notice his pupils expand and contract. I follow his eyes and I cross my arms in front of me as I realize he is unabashedly looking at my perked up nipples.

"I am number sixteen." I say as I clear my throat to call his attention.

"Excuse me!" he says lifting his eyes to look into mine, confusion etched on his face.

"arghhhh s-sorry. I am not Dr. White. This is unit sixteen; hers is on the other side of the building." I say pointing to the East side of the building lined with a row of identical units. "Hers is number six." I say simply, and shyly – _please gods, fates, mother-earth, father-time, Santa, the Easter Bunny and all deities past and yet to come, I just want this embarrassing encounter to end_.

"Thank you and sorry for interrupting your-"

"yoga, I was doing yoga." I say really fast, interrupting him, for some reason I need to explain myself to him.

"… interrupting your morning yoga session, then. Good day, Miss!" and with that, he turns and leaves, moving with sexy strides off to unit six on the other end of the street; the little girl on his arms sucking her thumb.

I close the door, and run to my kitchen, opening all the drawers I come across searching for batteries, I need batteries, lots and lots of batteries…

~0~0~

There you have it… do leave a review/comment if you can… Thanks for reading!

~0~0~

A/N: I received PMs and just about all the reviews (except 2 or 3) have asked me to continue. So, I decided to continue 'Stranger At My Door' I am not sure where the story will go, but I decided to enjoy the writing process once more. That means there is no set update schedule, I'll aim for once a week very late on Tuesday night but there are no promises - a missed Tuesday may indeed happen here and there.

As part of 'enjoying' the process I created a blog for ideas and pics and stuff. The link is on my profile and can be found at: cg-stranger-at-my-door-ff-story dot tumblr dot com


	2. Chapter 2 - Ana

A/N: I guess I should say I am not E.L. James – she owns the character names like Ana, and Christian; everything else, the rest, in this story is mine.

A/N: We have a beta, the fabulous Toni

Thank you Toni!

-X0 from all of us!

_**Stranger at my door **_

_**CH02: Ana**_

As I frantically search the kitchen for batteries, I notice it is only four minutes past eight; the whole exchange took less than five minutes and has turned my relaxing morning routine into a frantic quest. Yes, I am searching, hunting, foraging for that which fuels the Energizer Bunny; in the process hitting my left knee on the side of one the open pink drawers. Yet I find nothing, zip, zilch, zero, nada.

I waddle upstairs feeling the cool hardwood floors under foot, climbing the stairs favoring my left knee, and I limp until I reach my bathroom. I love my bathroom; it has large gray slate floor tiles that are smooth under foot and cold to the touch. There are white subway tiles surrounding the bathtub and separate shower from which the light bounces in just the right way to form small rainbows here and there.

I had a skylight installed to allow natural light that brightens the room and gives a serene feeling to the space. As usual, I look up to the sky and give a quick morning prayer - _for love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, faithfulness, and gentleness. There is no law against these things!_

I take a quick shower as my mind keeps swirling around images of the stranger at my door; he was so handsome with grey eyes and reddish messy hair. I cannot recall his name,_ Grey was it? Chris, Christopher… Christy was the little girl… shit what was his name? Well Adonis the stranger has to be it from now on I suppose._

My hair is certainly unruly today; there is no time left, so, I do the sensible thing and braid it to the side. Hurriedly I slip on my favorite easy to wear but yet nice-enough-to-go-to-work outfit. It is fitted and makes me look dressed up.

I have a meeting and I want to look professional but at the same time not look as if I am trying too hard to impress. My outfit consists of a dark charcoal 'A' line skirt, the fabric has some give to it and is quite comfortable. The three quarter length button up silk blouse is a matching charcoal, which has large five silver buttons on the front and at the end of the sleeves. I finish up with eye liner and lip gloss.

I think I look pretty good and wink at myself as I hurry about my apartment collecting all the manuscripts I have been reading during the weekend. All of them have some sort of romance and erotica themes, and I have to decide if SIP should jump into the erotica band wagon – _I have a speech prepared along with facts and examples of why it is a good idea, even the target market is growing among mainstream readers_.

Right at ten to nine, I stumble out the door, and I see no other than Adonis walking down the street; his little girl is still protectively perched on his hip. She is clutching a pink balloon and looks like she has been crying. There are a few men in suits around, and I recognized them as the same men I saw earlier and thought were passersby, now I think they are probably all together – _odd_.

I smile, wave and cross the street – _don't look back, maybe he is checking out my ass. I should probably sway my hips but I am so clumsy I'll be happy if I do not stumble. I need some girl power to give me inspiration here._

As I turn the corner to enter SIP, I look back and there he is, looking at me and with a smirk and a wave he goes into the very expensive looking black car he is standing next to. I cannot help my smile, _Adonis the stranger_ was checking me out_. How about that; girl power rules! _

"Morning, Ana!" Claire the-ever-cheerful receptionist greats me "Looking good!"

"Thanks Claire, how was your weekend?" wait for it, wait for it, and there she goes.

She starts talking about the latest movie, club, concert, game or whatever she went to with her friends. I wait for a little bit, agreeing at the right times and eventually interrupting her with a "Sounds like fun!" and leave for the sanctuary that is my office.

Time flies at work but the images of _Adonis the stranger _keep popping up in my mind. It does not help that the manuscript I am currently reading describes in detail the luscious, and delectable sex-escapades of a couple on their honeymoon. By midmorning, the images have transformed from _Adonis the stranger _to _Adonis the lover_ stranded at a love-nest Swiss Chalet in the Alps.

I finally breakdown and hit Google – in this age, everyone is online and at the very least may have a Facebook account or blog – _or so goes my train of thought, I really would like to see his relationship status: single, divorced, unattached are all good, I think_.

As I start to type Grey Chris Google ever so helpfully suggests 'Grey Christian' and there he is. The pictures staring at me are of my handsome stranger. I click on the first link which is a biography. There are two pictures of him. In one he is in an impressive tux, in the other he is shirtless on a sailboat.

_OMG – he is even more impressive of a male specimen than I had previously thought_. His muscles are ripped and look like an old fashion washboard. I ogle and drool over that picture for minutes on end. The article goes on about how he is one of Washington's most eligible bachelors –_ not surprising at all._ He started his own company that is now worth billions –_ yes with a 'B'. Wow impressive!_

Mr. Christian Grey, the CEO is very private; a philanthropist who was adopted as a child, has a reputation of a bad temper and being a ruthless businessman. There are several pictures of him at different galas, appearances and business meetings.

My investigation of Mr. hard-abs is interrupted by the ring on my laptop that reminds me of the meeting with the senior panel.

I go to my meeting with the proposal that SIP represent and publish erotica and give some new authors a try. I present my arguments and provide examples from the scripts I have read over the weekend; I even remember to present the facts of a growing readership base.

The senior panel listens attentively and I am overly enthusiastic about the whole issue, no doubt due to pining away over a handsome stranger for the last few hours. The panel takes my proposal under advisement and I will know for sure in a few days or maybe a week.

Once I am done, I grab two of the cupcakes on the counter and head to my office. Today's cupcakes have little books made of icing on top and are adorable. They look too pretty to eat so I put them on my desk and continue my research regarding one Mr. Christian Grey.

The next entries are from newspapers and tabloid magazines – _oh!_

Stupefied, with my mouth hanging open, I continue to read articles, stories and speculation over what went on a little bit less than a year ago.

News World reports a night of 'Terror' at Escala as an unstable woman holds a child hostage; the woman is dead by the end of the ordeal. Christian Grey's PR office blocks all attempts to figure out if the child is a boy or a girl and what type of relationship the child has to Grey – _obviously that is his daughter Christy; how horrible, poor baby._

From what I am able to put together from all the tabloids, such as the Seattle Nooze, Mirror, Enquirer, and US Weekly, which reported on the incident; the woman was a past girlfriend, Ms. Leila Williams. She broke into the upscale apartment holding the child, claiming that the baby was Christian's. Soon the situation escalated and the FBI and hostage negotiators got involved; but Williams committed suicide as the child was rescued –_ totally disturbing_.

By this time I am on the edge of my seat, I cannot read fast enough and my brain is trying to catch up with the images I am seeing, the emotions I am feeling, and the anxiety of wanting to learn more.

Up until then nobody knew Christian Grey had a love child, apparently not even him.

A later paternity test demonstrated he is the child's father and that information was leaked to the press. Christian Grey sued the magazine that leaked the paternity test results and they are now out of business; as well as the technician that sold the information. From then on, there are no mentions of the child in any publication.

Some of the tabloids claim that the woman was 'crazy in love' with Christian and even claim that the couple was into BDSM. Some of the magazines investigated Ms. Williams and they found rumors of her only ever having BDSM relationships, and belonging to different underground clubs that are frequented by high rollers; no more details have been published since then.

From the office of Christian Grey, in some PR releases, he admits that indeed he has a child from a long-term relationship with Ms. Williams, there were some aspects of 'kink' in their relationship, as many mature and consenting adults do all over the world. He requested the media to please leave them alone so that he may build a future with his child and leave his private life private – _wonder what kind of 'kink' he really is into_.

Several women then came out as past submissives of one 'Master Grey;' however, there is no evidence at all for their claims and the rumors die as fast as they surface. Some reports claim that Williams was using the child to trap the young entrepreneur; others that she was blackmailing him.

Up until then, there was speculation that Grey was gay, and Out Magazine has a whole spread about Grey Gay/Post-Gay/Not Gay speculation. Esquire magazine had a 'Grey Fatherhood' on the cover. As time passes, the stories dwindled down; now there is scarcely even a mention of the whole mess; recently, the only stories are about his business and professional life.

I look at the dates and recognize that all this happened when I was breaking up with Jose, and so it seems I missed one of the biggest tabloid stories around here. Not that I read tabloids that often but still, it seems hard that I missed the entire saga.

I jump as I hear a knock at my office door. I look over to my clock and it is already noon, I was so enthralled reading about my newly found obsession that I had forgotten I was at work.

"Come in!" I answer with a higher than normal voice and closing my browser.

As the door opens, I see him and an embarrassed flush spreads all the way over my body and across my face; I'm surprised to say the least -_ is this real, am I dreaming? Is the object of my on line stalking standing before me looking like he just stepped out of a magazine?_

"Miss Steele –" It is a statement rather than a question. His low voice rattles my senses, my blood seems to have rushed south, and once again my core liquefies...

~0~0~ TBC

… until next time… Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3 - Christian

A/N: Thank you for all your favs, follows, pms, comments/reviews – I read every single one of them.

A/N_: _Thanks to Toni for being my beta!

* * *

_**Stranger at my door**_

_**CH03: Christian**_

* * *

Monday, May 9, 2011 GEH, Seattle WA 

_"Good morning, Mr. Grey." Andrea smiles as I step out of the elevator; my answer is a sharp nod; I walk pass her and go to my office. My office has large windows that allow me to view the Seattle's skyline; it is a gloomy stormy day outside. _

_I expend the early morning in meetings followed by a gym visit. Even after my trainer has kicked my ass my mood is as grey as the weather. One day transforms into the next, weeks into months blending into more of the same – meetings, work, mergers and acquisitions._

_The only relief to my gray monotonous life has been my decision to send shipments to Sudan, otherwise, my life and work is monotonous. I have not had a submissive in months and it is affecting me._

_Yes, I think a petite brunette is what I am in need of; face blushing, legs red with the bite of a paddle, bound and ready to be taken for my pleasure as I see fit..._

_"Sir, one Ms. Williams to see you." Andrea's voice interrupts me._

_"Who?" – I heard her but I am surprised and unhappy about this._

_"Ms. Leila Williams, Sir."_

_"Let her in" I bark sounding like a sulking teenager._

_I open my door enough to let my unexpected visitor into my office. "This is irregular, Ms. Williams. Why are you here?" my voice showing my displeasure._

_"I am sorry, Sir." She says shyly standing next to the closed door –she knows her place at least. I have not invited her in._

_"Continue."_

_"I need a new Master, Sir." She does not lift her eyes from the floor, her face downcast, her arms behind her back. Her tits are as perky as always._

_"I thought you had a husband, Ms. Williams." She left me, ended her contract to go and marry some fucker._

_"We are not together anymore. I left him for my boyfriend, Trevor, but he died in an accident a couple of weeks ago, Sir."_

_After a long pause I state the obvious. "I see. You need someone to take care of your needs now, and you thought of me."_

_"Yes, Sir. I think I pleased Master. If you have me, I know I can please you again, Sir." Her voice a little above a whisper._

_I am silent as I consider entering into a contract with her. I never had the same submissive twice, yet here I am in need of a new sub. I walk around her, examining her body and I lock the door behind her._

_"Take everything off," I order and walk to my desk. Once I sit down, I see she is completely naked and has folded her clothes neatly by her feet. Her body pleases me, this arrangement is convenient and she is eager. I have made my decision, I ignore her and make some business calls. _

_Then, after about an hour, I walk over and finger her – she is dripping wet._

_"Always ready to please me, I see." She smiles briefly but does not answer; her eyes always downcast. "Very well, Friday, at seven. You know what it is expected of you. You may speak, get dress and leave."_

_"Thank you, Sir." She bows her head and starts getting dressed avoiding looking directly at me._

_"Ah, and Ms. Williams, never ever again come to my office. It is a hard limit; do you understand?"_

_"Yes, Sir". I look forward to pleasing you."_

* * *

Grey Mansion, Medina WA Sunday night

I point to the reflection looking, staring from my bathroom mirror and yell "STOP, just stop it!" I throw the hand towel I am holding; I look tired - _I am tired_.

I need to stop thinking what ifs.

_What if I had taken a submissive, a number sixteen, instead?_

_What if I had not finish the contract when she said she loved me?_

_What if when she called 'with news,' I had listened instead of cutting her off and reminding her of the NDA?_

_What if I had been at Escala that day?_

I close my eyes and rub my forehead_, what if she had shot Christy instead?_

Tonight, as every other night for the last nine months, I have a choice. Door number one is the easy route; take a pill and sleep. It would be a sound sleep with no nightmares. Or at the very least I won't remember them which is almost as good. The only problem is that I hate to depend on pills. Behind door number two are a few precious hours of sleep, dotted with nightmares and loneliness, darkness and despair until daylight break.

Tomorrow, I am taking my daughter to Dr. White, a child dentist. I am surprised at the lack of children dentists around. It seems not too many dentists choose to specialize on babies and children. It seems to me that baby teeth are just as important; babies and children matter – a fact that is often ignored.

Christy was only ten months old when the incident with Leila happened. There does not seem to be any residual effects, but she is emotional, and scared of loud sounds. I am keeping an eye on her; maybe a few bad hours do not leave lasting effects – like mine.

If I have anything to do with it, she will not be like me – a fucked up shell of a person. I want the best for my Christy; maybe, just maybe, there will not be any long term issues.

Door number one it is; at the very least I will not have bags under my eyes.

I reach over and take my pills with a glass of water, and brush my teeth. By the time I reach my bed darkness overtakes me.

* * *

Grey Mansion, Medina WA Monday

The sunlight is bright, so I squint as I try to shake the hold of the night out of me. I hate taking sleeping pills; I wake up groggy and confused. As I make my way out of my room and into the hall, my mind in an infinite loop, I repeat what know is true. 'I am Christian Grey, Christy's father, thirty years old; I love my baby, she is my life; us against the world, Christy and I together, a family of two. I am Christian Grey, Christy's father, thirty years old…" The chant helps me chase my morning confusion away.

I no longer live at Escala; I bought a house, a complex really, in Medina. It is close enough to my mom; but, it is isolated and hidden by hills so the paparazzi have a hard time reaching us. It is a family home, for Christy and I.

"Morning Gail!" I greet as I check on my girl. Christy is getting her night time diaper changed. I give her a kiss and I am rewarded with her best smile and her sing song "dadadada."

Gail is Christy's nanny, more like her surrogate mother. Gail was once my housekeeper but stepped in wonderfully to care for Christy. Now I have a large house staff and Gail's duties include overseeing them as well – Gail is my right hand woman at home.

We make our way to the breakfast bar, where Maggie – or chef - has our breakfast ready. Taylor, my head of security, is waiting for us. He smiles, and helps Gail as she settles a squirming Christy on her high chair. Christy is having cereal and mashed bananas. It is an omelet and coffee for me.

"Eat your food there, Princess." Christy has always been cared for, that is the one thing I am grateful to Leila for, Leila did not abuse Christy - unlike me.

"NO!" she says with her pudgy fingers smeared with sticky cereal. I have learned her response to everything is no.

"Well, you are not getting anything else until you do." Gail feeds her the breakfast somehow managing just a small mess.

After breakfast, it is bath time. I love washing Christy's hair, so that is my job. Unconsciously, I look at her chest and back, looking for cigarette scars that I know are not there. I cannot help it; she looks so much like me. Always at this time I leave and Gail manages everything else.

By eight thirty, we are ready to go and I insist on driving Christy this morning. The security team follows us closely – they are never too far behind, a not so nice reality of being Christian Grey, CEO. A fact that Christy needs to learn since it is a perk of being my daughter.

Columbia City is about thirty minutes away from Medina; a suburb of Seattle, I am expecting a young friendly doctor whose offices look more like a kindergarten than the typical dentist office.

"You are going to be good and show your pretty teeth to the doctor, won't you Princess?" I ask her as I hoist my daughter onto my hip. She holds on to my chest, it does not bother me that she touches my chest. Christy and Mia, my sister, are the only ones that can do so.

"NO!" Christy answers with her small but very high voice.

"I'll buy you ice cream!" I can see her little wheels turning. Is it worth it? Ice cream in exchange for showing her teeth; we reach the door and it is closed – odd.

I let Christy ring the doorbell and she is fascinated. I never realized before that Christy has never had to ring the doorbell anywhere. It is a new experience for her, and she is smiling. Her smile fills me with joy.

Christy pushes the button again and giggles. I love her giggles, they lift my spirits and I smile. I smile at the simple joy of seeing my child happy. I hear someone coming to the door and Christy rings once and then again. She is laughing a belly laugh that I adore; I am smiling at her.

Christy and I are having a good old time with door bells when the door is pulled open. I lift my eyes and see the woman of my dreams; she is perfect, kissable mouth, long brown hair, legs that go on forever, alabaster skin, small little waist and tits just the right size. But what draw me to her are her guileless blue eyes, they seem to see through me.

The woman is not wearing much of anything, only a tiny red outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination. She has tiny shorts and a small spaghetti strap t-shirt that falls to her shoulders and show the form to her perked up nipples. She is breathing hard as if she had just run to answer the door, her skin is shiny with sweat and all I can think of is I want her, I want to fetter, fuck and flog her and fuck her again for good measure…

~0~0~ TBC

… until next time… Thanks for reading!

~0~0~0~

A/N: CH04 will not be published this week.

There are several reasons, I participated in the Lyric Challenge, take a look the stories are great and it was good fun. Also, I have been dealing with pink eye - it is almost gone now - because of it, I could not burn the midnight oil on this one. You can find the list (back to FF) for all the participating stories in my blog: fsog-challenge-links dot tumblr dot com

Anyway, I read and answered all your reviews; loved them all - many thanks for PMs, reviews, follows, and favs.

I will try and continue to answer them all (as time permits).

Just to tie you over, I have updated this story's blog, select 'Ask me anything' if you have answers, comments, plot ideas or anything else you want to say. The blog is: cg-stranger-at-my-door-ff-story dot tumblr dot com


	4. Chapter 9

**Hello readers,**

**FYI, I have created a wattpad account for this story: www****.**wattpad**.**com/story/7911951-stranger-at-my-door  


**Also, the blog for this story is: japn4m-stranger-at-my-door-story .tumblr .com**

***notice the url change. You need to remove the spaces.  
**

**The links are also in my profile so you can easily follow them. At first I will posting the chapters you have read here and then ****I am continuing this story over wattpad**. I hope to see you there.

**Thank you very much for your support.**

**X0,**

**Jo.**


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